1998.’
Saxby put down the phone and stood there looking thoughtful while the technician, mop in hand, pushed a tide of disinfectant across the floor ever nearer to his feet.
‘Progress?’ asked the technician.
‘Maybe I was a bit hasty in pushing the panic button,’ said Saxby. ‘She hasn’t been abroad for two years, and even then it was only bloody Majorca. I don’t think it can be what I thought it was. Bloody odd, though.’
‘So all this is unnecessary?’
‘Better safe than sorry.’
‘What about the samples you took?’
‘Send them to the lab in the usual way.’
‘And the shower?’
‘Won’t do you any harm.’
FIVE
Edinburgh
‘Yes, what is it, Jean?’ snapped Paul Grossart.
His secretary moved back involuntarily from the intercom, surprised at his tone of voice. A change had come over her boss in the last week or so. Ever since the Americans’ visit he had been preoccupied and on edge. ‘I have a Mr Brannan on the phone for you.’
‘I don’t know any Brannan, do I?’ asked Grossart.
‘He’s a journalist with the Scotsman. He wonders if he might have a few words.’
Grossart paused and swallowed hard before saying, ‘Put him through.’
‘Mr Grossart?’ said a friendly sounding voice. ‘Jim Brannan, science correspondent of the Scotsman.’
‘What can I do for you, Mr Brannan?’ said Grossart, adopting a neutral tone.
‘There’s a rumour doing the rounds that Lehman is making a big cut in its transgenic research initiative.’
‘What gives people that idea?’ asked Grossart defensively.
‘You paid off a number of staff at the end of last week.’
Grossart had to think fast. He hadn’t realised that this was a newsworthy event but it was a fact that Lehman had paid off a number of support staff engaged on the Snowball project whose services were no longer required. They were relatively low-grade, and none had been privy to the overall aims of the project, but a couple were part- qualified junior technicians and might have been able to figure out something. ‘We are a cutting-edge research company, Mr Brannan,’ said Grossart. ‘Our priorities constantly have to change with the ever-advancing state of scientific knowledge. The loss of jobs was simply the unfortunate fall-out from a course adjustment we had to make.’
‘So Lehman isn’t abandoning its transgenic animal work?’
‘We remain committed to exploring every avenue of medical research which will benefit mankind,’ replied Grossart.
‘I trust I can quote you on that,’ said Brannan sourly, thinking he could have found a better quote in a Christmas cracker.
‘Of course.’
‘It was a bit sudden, this “course adjustment”, wasn’t it?’
‘Not at all. We’d been considering it for some months.’
‘Right,’ said Brannan slowly, sounding less than convinced. ‘So nothing went wrong, then?’
‘Nothing at all,’ said Grossart.
The conversation ended and Grossart took several deep breaths before looking at his watch and doing a mental calculation. He punched the intercom button and said, ‘Get me Hiram Vance in Boston.’ He tapped nervously on the desk until the connection was made.
‘Paul, what can I do for you?’
‘They know,’ hissed Grossart hoarsely. ‘For Christ’s sake, Hiram, they know. I’ve just had the press on the phone asking about the shutdown of the Snowball project.’
‘Slow down, Paul,’ said Vance, sounding calm and controlled. ‘Just take it easy and tell me exactly what happened.’
Grossart gave him the details of his conversation with Brannan.
‘Then what the hell are you worried about?’ said Vance. ‘You said exactly the right thing and it’s my guess that will be an end to it.’
‘I’m not so sure,’ said Grossart hesitantly.
‘Trust me,’ said Vance. ‘A story about a few guys losing their jobs isn’t exactly Watergate, is it? By tomorrow it’ll be yesterday’s news.’
‘Brannan knew they were working with transgenic animals.’
‘Who isn’t these days, in our line of business?’ said Vance. ‘Relax, Paul.’
‘If you say so.’
‘One thing worries me, though,’ said Vance, sounding less friendly. ‘I see our UK share price has dropped sharply.’
‘The market here’s a bit volatile at the moment,’ said Grossart, feeling his throat go dry.
‘I certainly hope that’s all it is,’ said Vance. ‘I wouldn’t like to think anyone there was trying to unload large numbers of our shares, if you get my drift?’
‘I’m sure that’s not the case,’ lied Grossart.
‘Glad to hear it,’ said Vance. ‘You have a nice day.’
Grossart tried to reciprocate but the line went dead.
Glenvane, Dumfriesshire
It had been a good day and Steven had insisted that Sue and Richard go out to dinner while he babysat: they didn’t often get the opportunity, so there was usually one night when he offered to do this on his visits. Earlier, he and Sue had taken the children up to Edinburgh, where they had visited the zoo, eaten ice cream and generally had a fun time. The children had walked like the penguins, growled like the lions and behaved like the chimpanzees all the way home. The afterglow of a happy day was still with him as he watched a film on late-night television while nibbling potato crisps and sipping a Stella Artois. He always found it easy to unwind at the house in Glenvane. It seemed a million miles away from the bustle of London.
The earth was in danger of being hit by a giant asteroid but the missiles launched by the USA were on their way. Men with caps and epaulettes carrying several kilos of scrambled egg watched their progress on a giant screen, but instead of a nuclear impact Steven’s mobile phone went off and he hit the mute button on the TV remote.
‘Dunbar.’
‘Duty officer at Sci-Med here. Mr Macmillan would like you back in London as soon as possible, Dr Dunbar.’
‘I’m on leave.’
‘Perhaps you’d like to tell him that yourself.’
‘What’s the problem?’
‘Don’t know but you could try working the words “shit” and “fan” into a well-known phrase or saying.’
‘Gotcha. I’ll catch the first flight in the morning.’ As Steven spoke, he heard the clatter of a diesel engine outside and saw Sue and Richard get out of a taxi. They were giggling like naughty children and it made him smile.
‘Bad news?’ asked Sue when she saw the phone in his hand.
‘I’m on the first flight to London.’
‘Tough luck, old son,’ said Richard. ‘But I’m glad they didn’t take you away earlier, because we have just had a bloody good time.’ He slumped down into an armchair with a silly grin on his face. ‘We really are very grateful, you know.’
